(please) let my star rise on your night
by Ehvy
Summary: Stars never go away, we just can't see it. It's just that the old sky's eyes have gotten dim; the stars still shine.


An unknown court lady has died tonight.

"She left the world quietly, without commotion or reluctance. Head heavy on a flat pillow, back weary against the hard floor, her eyelids fluttered shut like the kiss of butterfly wings.

She does not die in his arms. He is not even in the palace when she leaves him.

(He does not know whether to grieve the fact he was not there in her last moments, or be glad he did not have to feel her once lively body slowly grow cold.)

Three days away, a messenger meets him in the outskirts of the city, bearing a grim face and even grimmer news.

"Lady Hae is no longer with us."

He rides his horse faster than he's ever had, and he is reminded briefly of their first meeting, their first contact.

( _HEY! People are more important than car...than horses!_ )

But he is three days too late, and he is left with only a motionless Lady long since gone and the suffocating despair (tumour, weight, there are no words to define such an emotion) lying heavy and mercilessly across his chest.

(It is the first night of her absence, and he cannot sleep. Still, he sees her face in the night, and wonders if she's smiling amongst the stars.)

A woman loved dearly by her lover has died tonight.

* * *

She did not leave behind anything of value, only the silent child of his and hers.

Her last gift to him, the daughter she risked her life to conceive and birth.

( _"She will be your joy in dark nights, Your Majesty. Your own, personal Star."_ )

"Come here, Star."

She quietly sits on his lap, not yet four, not yet old enough to realize the weight of what has passed, of who has passed.

But she lets him cry into her hair, lets him stifle his sobs against her tiny, tiny shoulder, and like mother, like daughter, she awkwardly, softly, pats his shoulder, holding him against her small warmth.

They stay this way for many nights. And he is glad, he decides.

Glad, that even though she has left without his permission, she still managed to entrust to him the one thing that mattered.

(He wondered if she was happy, if she was finally free from the pain that had been unfairly given to her, had kept her trapped all these years. And he wanted so, so, bad to believe he would finally see her free.)

* * *

"Where is mother?"

It has been half a month since she has died, and only now does his daughter voice her worry.

(He does not wish to explain to her the complexities and simplicities of death. He could barely say her name aloud; how was he to explain her vanishing to his not-yet-five little girl?)

(He wishes she were here to explain it in his stead.)

(He wishes she were alive in his stead.)

"Has she gone somewhere far away?" Star's brows wrinkle, and automatically, he reaches out to smooth them, to soothe her.

And he thinks, _a small lie, a small, little lie, should be fine. Just this once_.

"Yes...your mother has gone somewhere far away for a while." (He hopes against hope he will see her again soon.)

Star looks at him for a moment, and he cannot tell if it is due to the worries of a child abandoned by her mother, or if she had somehow inherited her mother's ability to take and tear apart his lies. Finally, she nods, vaguely satisfied.

"I will wait for her, then. Maybe she'll have some fun stories to tell me once she comes back."

(He did not think it possible, but his heart grows heavier still, and it is like the lie is a stone, sinking deep, deep, down, where it burrows and digs and emhurts/em because his little girl is so like his dead lover and he prays, oh, how he prays, that their fates will not be the same, that she will not live and struggle and die like her mother had.  
That she will not be abandoned by her loves like she had.)

* * *

He asked the Astronomer once, a long time ago, back when his lover was alive and breathing, and his daughter was but a bundle in his arms, what his Star's star would tell.

He wanted to know, and he did not want to know. There was no one desire greater than the other, but his fear won out, and a small pause on Ji Mong's part was all it took to have him take back his question.

(The Astromer assured him it was nothing set in stone, nothing that could be too terrible, but he has lived his life living the worst possibilities, and if he could shield his daughter from it all, from growing up with the burden of knowing even a hint of her fate, he would do everything in his power to do so.)

So Star grows up, the apple of his eye, the one child favored and protected above all others, and he is proud and relieved, because she gets to decide, she gets to choose who she wants to be and what she wants to do.

(And every night, he looks up at the stars and tells her stories of the constellations, and thanks his long-gone lover for this gift she has made sure to leave him.)

(He hopes Star's happiness will compensate for all the sadness she's gone through, all the torture she's had to endure.)

* * *

He never does manage to fix his relationship with his mother's clan.

Jung and he remain estranged, remain mutually hated, and the silence between them grows colder still when news of the previous Damiwon court lady's death reaches those of Yoo.

It is not until his daughter turns twelve that he is in contact with them again. Not of his own volition, of course. But his daughter insists, and he reluctantly (unashamedly argues back) complies with her wishes.

("Father, I wish to learn some martial arts."

"What use would you have for beating up hoodlums that would already be killed on the spot by the royal guards?"

"Aren't you usually the one who says that it is better to be prepared than sorry? And besides, all my brothers get to learn martial arts, why shouldn't I? Is this really too much to ask?")

(He is not as grateful that his little girl inherited her mother's quick tongue and attitude, but still; who would their Star be without it?)

So he tries to send her to Captain Park, but she refuses to spend her days with an old grumpster.

"Send me to uncle, instead."

"Who? 13th Prince? He would teach you the musical arts rather than the martial arts."

"No, not that uncle. The one mother used to tell me about. 14th Uncle. Your younger brother."

"...I do not want to. Did your mother fail to mention that he was exiled for a reason? That he challenged my claim to the throne and therefore stirred more trouble in the palace?"

"Mother told me everything, unlike a certain father who could barely look his daughter in the eye after he told such a childish, hope-filled lie."

(Quick-witted, gentle girl, with a heart of gold and tongue like knives, his lovely, cherished little girl.)

"And I forgave you, so the least you could do is let me meet the uncle who was kind enough to send me toys during my childhood, even though he was exiled by his niece's father."

"And I was kind enough to allow the toys to be delivered into the palace. What would you do if he suddenly decides he isn't satisfied with his exile and uses you as a hostage? Would you fight the man who had once held the title of Grand General?"

"Really, father, you're being more childish than little brother Hyohwa, and he is only two! Are you a spoiled brat, father? I am disappointed. And as for my use as a hostage, I am sure you will think of a countermeasure worthy of your name. Unless you really are a disappointment."

(His daughter was, what word did his lover use? Savage. Ah, yes. He could see why such an attitude had amused her so. Lovely, but savage. If he had been a wolf dog, his daughter was a crouching tiger, hiding between the shadows of trees for her moment to strike.)

Still, he does not let up, and it is not until his daughter finally confesses her discomfort towards her half-siblings' presence does he finally relent.

("Do not leave me for too long, Star, or you will come back only to find your dear father has gone insane."

"You would sooner go insane from how long I've been with you than become insane in my absence, father. I will not be gone too long. And you will be too busy to even notice it. I wish you well, father, and take care of your health. Remember to eat well, to sleep well, and do not stay up too late for court matters if you can help it."

"Enough, child; leave before I decide I would rather have your constant nagging by my side than by your uncle's and bar you from leaving the palace. You are much like your mother in your lectures. Worry about your own health for once. Don't hold in your stress, and rest well."

"I am not old like you, father. I will be fine. I'm leaving now.")

The nights are silent, he thinks, as he watches his daughter's star travel across the darkened sky.

( _"Your daughter will live a fulfilling life, Your Majesty; of that, of everything I've predicted, that is the one thing I can guarantee."_ )

* * *

He is half-out of the throne room when a messenger is allowed into the palace, grim faced and bearing the flag of the Yoo clan.

"Where is my daughter?!" he demands. "What has happened to my Star?!"

"I have come with grave news. Princess Star of Goryeo has sustained a mortal injury while training and is currently in critical condition. Master Jung has -"

(He would go to war with the Yoo if it meant seeing his daughter safe, seeing his daughter happy in his arms. He would go to war, he swore he would, if his daughter so much as bled in their lands and now she has, and Baek-Ah is pulling him back, Ji Mong has an arm across his chest, and he can't breathe, he can't breathe, he thinks he is yelling, he is roaring, but he's not sure how when _he can't breathe._ )

The faint whimperings of the messenger reaches his ears and he realizes he has his hands around his throat and he is squeezing, and he is watching his face go purple, but logic finally whispers into his head, and he lets go, he lets go to hear the rest of the message, the condition of his little girl.

( _I'm sorry, my love, I'm sorry, I couldn't protect her, too, I shouldn't have let her go, I'm so, so, sorry, my love, please, please don't take her away, don't take our Star away just yet._ )

She has a gash across her stomach, and though it has not hit any vitals, she had lost a lot of blood. The accident had been exactly that-an accident, and the messenger swears that the 14th Prince had tried to knock her out of the way, he really had, but he had not been fast enough, and she had still been hit. She is going to have a scar, a badge of honour in a fight that could have killed her.

And he stops listening then, because it's happening again. It's all happening again. It's not a mirror image, not a linear timeline, but his daughter will now bear a mark for life, and how was he going to face his lover in the afterlife?

(She had loved all his scars, and he had loved hers, but they had wanted a better life for their child, a good one, where she did not have to bear any scar of her own, physical or emotional.)

The messenger promises to keep him updated regularly-daily, almost, if he could manage it-on her progress to recovery, and he returns to the Yoo with a message from the king addressed to his exiled younger brother:

 _Thank you_

And

 _Keep her safe for me_

There is no written reply from Jung of the Yoo, but he sends back to his older brother a grey, sea shell hairpin, the ones the court ladies of the Damiwon used to wear.

(" _I did it for her._ ")

* * *

Star recovers in near record time.

She arrives back in Songak to the small gathering of her father, 13th uncle, and the royal Astronomer.

"I'm back, father."

"Welcome home, daughter."

(She sometimes jokingly remarks that the speed of her recovery was due to the combined worry of her father and her 14th uncle. "I'll never get hurt again, because their nagging was worse than the pain."

And this was fine by him, if it meant he never had to worry about her life again.)

( _Thank you, my love, thank you for not taking her away from me._ )

He still fusses, insisting she rests when she tries to keep up with her training in the palace grounds, but she has picked up some bad habits from her uncle, and sometimes he will catch her jumping from roof to roof before the crack of dawn, and give him a "heart attack" in the process.

("Relax, father, I'm fully healed! I'm still your bright little Star, and I will always be by your side.")

And if he tightens his hold on her a little more, no one could blame him.

* * *

"No."

"But-"

"No, and that's final."

"Father!"

" _Enough!_ "

He has never raised his voice at his daughter before, never showed any emotion remotely close to anger around her, because she was his Star in the night, and just her presence chased the dark away.

But on this he will not bend.

( _Why must the heavens keep taking away those he loved most?_ )

She is 17, and she is still vulnerable in the palace. Politics were swirling around her, the currents of the world pressed in on all sides, and he can see her yearn for freedom the same way her mother once had. He sees her willing to sacrifice herself for the lives of others like her mother once had.

He will not allow it.

"You will not mention this to me again. _No one_ will mention this to me again, regardless of rank or position!"

"Queen Daemok-"

" _I said there will be no mention of this again._ "

( _When did it all go wrong? Was it wrong the entire time? If so, why?_ )

He does not go to see his Star again for the day, and it feels like an eternity, and he misses his lover, he misses her and prays that she is watching over them, and he is so, so angry at Yeon Hwa, his so-called Queen, for her audacity, for suggesting the one last thing that made him happy to be married off for political benefit.

(And his anger, he will never admit, is also directed towards _her_ , his long-dead Lady, for being so damn self-sacrificing, so damningly upright and willing to give herself up for others', because now their daughter is following in her footsteps, walking towards her despair like some heaven-forsaken martyr and he would rather return to the time he was adopted into the Shinju clan than let her go through that.)

He is yelling, voice gravelly and booming, and he argues, fire for fire, against his Queen, his wife, against the woman whom he had married to keep his throne, to keep the power that would guarantee his dead lovers' and precious daughter's safety.

(And what good had that power done for him, anyway? Safety? Security? Profit? What were those things when the world itself decided their love could not be, and his daughter was worth disposing of? _What good was any of this?_ )

None of them wins that night. Not him, not the queen, and not his daughter.

He spends the night looking at his daughter's star, staring, staring, staring, willing it to stay strong, to stay forever bright, to never, ever fade.

( _Let her be happy. We wished for her to be happy. At least give her that._ )

* * *

The first-born daughter of King Gwangjong of Goryeo is to be married on the first day of Spring to the Khitan.

( _Why. Why her. She has done nothing wrong except to be born into this damned world._ )

She tries to speak to him the month before she is to leave.

"I'm going to be fine, father. He has so many wives, he will barely remember me. Don't worry, father; I will be really, really fine."

(He is reminded of that night, that one last, lovely night he had had with her mother, where she had told him the same thing, told him the same damn thing before he was to marry into the Hwangbo clan. And gods, he had never hated this world as much as he did this very moment.)

He hugs his daughter, fiercely, lovingly, holds her like he will never see her again, and desperately wished he were a god, if not a king, then a god, who could finally, finally protect those he loved.

(But he was only a king, a human king, and perhaps that had been his flaw all along. That he wasn't an unbeatable beast, or a chained dog, or a valiant prince, but that he was a human being. A worthless, useless human being with a gilded throne and a million enemies.)

( _Give her strength. Give her patience, and steadfast love. Let her love and be loved. Let her live happily and freely, without inhibitions or sadness._ Please. Please.  
Please.)

* * *

"Your mother's last will was for you to never become a queen."

She looks up at him, surprise barely flickering over her face, before a mask of palace-honed indifference settles back into place.

( _I will not be controlled by others._ )

"She wanted you to live freely, without anyone telling you what you could or could not do. She wanted you happy, a life that would blossom in the murkiest of waters."

( _"Your Majesty, do you think she will be strong when she grows up?"_ )

"She wanted you to decide your own fate, decide who you would love yourself."

( _"She has you for her mother; of course she will."_ )

"She wouldn't have wanted this for you. No-you don't have to do this."

( _"Will she be able to live freely?"_ )

( _"She has us for parents; if not freely, how else would we allow her to live?"_ )

They are sitting, side by side in the palace, waiting for the palanquin that will carry her to the outskirts of Songak to arrive. She is a vision, dressed in the bright reds and blues of the Goryeo wedding colours.

"But I decided to, father. I chose this."

( _No one decides how I will live, except me_ )

He hugs her again, holding her against his chest, and wishes for another life, another chance to fix this, to fix everything. Another life where he, his lover, his daughter, are all at peace and happy. Another life where she would get to meet all her uncles and aunts, where her siblings would come from the same mother, and she could run freely and without worry. Another life where she could meet her own other half and fall in love and marry and be happy.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm such a useless father. I'm so, so sorry."

She pushes him away then, and he is surprised to see her cry. His brave, little girl, who never once shed a tear, even when a sword sliced her in two, and her mother's absence split her apart even before then.

(She wasn't so little anymore, was she? All grown up, his little girl, deciding for herself how she will live, how she will survive and be happy. Deciding for herself how free she will be.)

"Do you remember when mother died? You told me she was far away somewhere, and I said I would wait for her to return with fun stories. So, it's your turn to wait now, father. I'm going to go on a long journey, and I'm going to see things I can't see in Songak that I can see with the Khitan. I'll practice my martial arts there and eat things Goryeo's never even heard of. I'll meet merchants and tradesmen, and see the deserts and camels. I'll have children I can boast about, and I'll be happy, because I decide what my own happiness is. So you have to wait, father. I'll return with fun stories for you, this time. I'll return happy, and both you and mother can be at peace. I promise."

(His little girl wasn't so little anymore, and he finds that letting go of someone very much a part of him, very much still alive is another matter entirely.)

* * *

He is at the outskirts of Songak when the messenger comes.

( _"Come visit me sometime, father. I have a lot of wonderful things I want to show you."_ )

His face is grim.

His news is grimmer.

(She had been the only one of his children whom had been allowed to call him "father" instead of "Your Majesty". And now, now he will never hear her voice again.)

It has been almost three years since his eldest daughter left the palace. Her smile, he can still remember, was soft, strong, enduring, tinged with the slightest of wistful sadness.

His little girl, all grown up, carried off in a palanquin to a husband she's never met to save the half family she's never loved.

( _"It's my birthday, father! I'm 18 this year! Why don't you come and visit to celebrate? Or at least send Astronomer Ji Mong or 13th Uncle?"_ )

Why didn't he visit her back then? His little girl turned adult, settled in and far away on her own adventures. He should have. What did state affairs and avoiding wars with other countries matter when the lives of those he loved were so fleeting?

( _Why didn't he spend more time with them? Why did he spend it like he had? Why? Why?_ )

"She was sick for a long time, Your Majesty. It may have been the stress of travel and unfamiliar land. But the doctors say...say that...her body has always been weak, and...and that she...wasn't meant to...live...for very…."

( _"She insisted on not informing you, Your Majesty."_ )

The messenger trails off, and he is not listening anymore. After a while, the messenger is escorted outside the palace. He leaves with the awkward last condolences a messenger offers to a foreign king. The attempt falls on deaf ears.

( _"Tell my father that I was happy, that I lived a very fulfilling life. Every decision I made, I made myself. And thank you, my wonderful, beautiful, lovely father, for providing it all for me. I'll be going to mother now. Don't come to us too soon."_ )

* * *

King Gwangjong walks around the palace at night. He does not sleep. He eats for the pretense of eating. But all he lives and breathes is the silence.

There is no pattering of feet, no little girl calling for him to _wait, father, I thought you were going to tell me about the stars tonight!_ There is no soft voice calling out to him, _Your Majesty, remember to sleep well_ , no gentle fingers caressing his scarred face.

(He runs the state more so than before. He does not sleep, so what was the point of being unproductive? At least here, without weaknesses of the heart, without his actual _heart_ , he can do what he must to make this world a better place, a better life for those still living in it.)

( _Is that enough to be forgiven, my love? Are you happy up there with our little Star?_ )

There is only silence and darkness, and he realizes that what he said was true.

He cannot live without Hae Soo, without his Star in the night, because this silence, this oppressing darkness in the middle of the palace; this was not living. This was the haunting of a ghost, the haunting of a husk.

So when it is time for him to leave, he welcomes it. The darkness, the silence of death; it wasn't so different from what he was in now, so why should he fear it? Why should he shy away from it? At least here, here he'll have the hope of seeing his family again.

* * *

"How was it?" she asks, when she sees him again, her small hand in his.

"You're going to have to be a little bit more specific," he teases her, bringing her knuckles to his lips, then tugging her close under his arms.

"Stop that!" but she was giggling, and he buried his face into her hair, smiling into her warmth. She pokes his side and shakes her head.

"How was our other life? The one where you were king and I was your beautiful, wonderful, absolutely amazing lover?" She was preening, and they both burst out laughing, and she was wonderful. When had he ever felt himself so free?

But he will give her a serious answer. Because it had been a serious time, one that had caused them so much pain. And though she may not remember much, he knows she still dreams of it sometimes, even if it is not as often as he.

"It was a time of strife and betrayal," he answers her carefully, aware of her eyes on his. "One where a lot of suffering occurred and a lot of sacrificing had to happen. But we were...we were happy. We chose what we could, and even if we weren't free, and were betrayed a lot, we were happy."

She was quiet for some time, and he wasn't sure if her interest had waned or if she had zoned out. But she squeezes his arm and smiles, a sad, wistful smile on her face.

"Did we have a family?" She asks, tugging him down to sit on the grass. "And if we did, a boy or a girl?" She scrunches her nose, "though it might have been a bad time for a family, huh? Maybe we had a pet. Like a dog, or something!"

He laughs, and it's clear now, nothing obstructing its way out of his lungs. He swoops in and kisses the tip of her nose, and she makes a sound between a gasp and a hiccup in embarrassment and he laughs all the more.

(He remembers a desperate wish for another life, another chance.

He hopes that this will be the chance for them.)

"We had a huge family." She's blushing now, and he sees his face reflected in her eyes, "I had many brothers who always fought, but all got along with you. I had a loving father and two well-meaning mentors. I had two sister-in-laws who I got along with, and nieces and nephews who would run up to me when I saw them. And most of all," he looks at her, his eyes filled with love, his heart swelling and spilling out, and he is sure her's is, too, from the way she is looking and smiling at him.

"Most of all, I had a wonderful lover and a lovely little girl who was our Star in the dark night."

the end

(I will accept no other ending aside from death or happiness. Legit. I will rewrite the entirety of MLSHR if I have to.)

(Also, everything is most likely canonically and historically incorrect, probably out of character for everything but its 4, and i have no beta, i want no beta, and i wrote this 60% to avoid my layout piece for portfolios)

Hoped people liked it!


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